


your hands inside mine like diamonds

by pertunes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fingering, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pertunes/pseuds/pertunes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It becomes sort of a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your hands inside mine like diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> this is just porn. about harry's hands. for [this prompt](http://1dkinkmeme.livejournal.com/5001.html?thread=4939657). title from ballerina by leona naess.

The first time he touches a girl, really touches her, not a half-assed snog in a car or shaky hand on a breast, is in his girlfriend Melody’s bedroom after school when her parents aren’t home. Harry lets his hand wander down to the hem of her uniform skirt, sliding it up her thigh until his fingers can press against the wetness of her knickers. his hands are getting bigger - all of him is, his relatives keep reminding him - and his fingers spread out, can span from her navel to the top of the lace of her panties. He lets them dip below the fabric and continues sucking on her neck while melody gasps, all pretty and red faced. He fumbles a little, unsure, but he’s seen enough porn to know what he’s supposed to be looking for and he’s pretty sure he finds it when she groans, long and sweet, tipping back onto the bed and spreading her legs for him.   
  
He gets a little more adventurous, goes lower and pushes a finger inside of her, where she’s so, so wet, and she rocks down on it, chest heaving. “Shit, shit, Harry,” she gasps out, and he has to unzip his trousers and take his cock out because he’s so hard it hurts.  
  
He keeps rubbing his thumb over her cilt, adding a second finger inside of her and it doesn’t take long at all for her to start rocking hard, fucking back on his hand and then she’s mewling, clenching, squeezing around his fingers so tight and coming and Harry rubs off quickly on her thigh, stuttering out his own release and apologizing for the mess he’s made of her uniform.  
  
She moves away the summer after he turns fifteen and he fucks her for the first time a few days before the moving trucks come. He pounds into her, no finesse and desperate for release, watching his hands as they hold her legs apart and rub at her clit. Afterwards, he eats her out and makes her come two more times with his fingers because he can.  
  
It becomes sort of a thing, after that.  
  
He has a few girlfriends in Cheshire, and most of them don’t want to go all the way with him just yet, but he doesn’t care. He prefers going down them, wrapping his lips around their clits and  _sucking_ , using just the edge of his teeth until they’re soaking, begging him to come and then he pulls back and shoves two fingers in, fucking in hard and crooking them and watching as the girl falls apart.  
  
He likes what his fingers can do, what noises he can wring from someone and how hard he can make a girl come, their backs arching and hips twitching back on his hand. With a few too many bottles of lube he learns to do it to himself, laying back on his bed when he’s got the house to himself and teasing his way down his chest, avoiding his cock, flushed, hard and leaking on his stomach. He pushes in slowly, grinding back when anticipation takes over hesitation. He eventually works himself up to three, then four fingers, pressing inside of him and stretching, a hazy burn he likes turning into pleasure, fingertips and knobby knuckles hitting that spot inside of him that makes him cry out, over and over until he’s keening and coming.  
  
The first boy he kisses lets Harry’s nudge a finger behind his balls, pushing into his hole dry as he comes down Harry’s throat in the stall of a bathroom. The first older woman he’s with, one of his neighbors, takes him back to the bed her husband bought and Harry loves how she directs him, takes control and pushes his face down, murmuring, “Christ, you’ve got a mouth.” He shudders, agrees, “mhm,” in the back of his throat, makes sure it vibrates where he’s sucking at her clit. She protests when he takes his mouth off but then he pushes his fingers inside her pussy, giving her a fast, unrelenting rhythm until she’s wailing and pushing his hand away and he’s grinning up at her, knee walking up the bed while he rips open a condom.  
  
A few months before X Factor and his year goes to Paris for a week. He cuts the tours and spends most of it between a girl’s legs - _Aimée, mon cher_ , she tells him and he curls his tongue against her accent - rubbing his fingers inside her, up, up, up. It’s the first time he’s seen a girl squirt, the first time he’s made one squirt, gushing out over the bed and his chest, neck, and throat while his hips twitch helplessly into the sheets and he forces four orgasms out of her until she’s shuddering, body convulsing every few seconds and thighs quaking together, trying to force his hand out. He finally does, wraps his wet slick hand around his cock and tugs, comes so hard he nearly blacks out while she giggles above him, stroking gentle hands down his shoulders.  
  
She kisses him on the cheek before he leaves for his train and he spends months rutting into his hand thinking about his long fingers inside her and her wetness spraying out over his hand.  
  
He likes touring. He likes traveling with the boys and seeing a new city every night and he likes the people. He likes the freedom of it, that he can go to a club and get a little pissed and dance with someone, all loose and happy and Niall or Zayn or whoever will just give him a knowing look and wave him off when he says he’s heading back to the hotel, a guy or girl in tow.  
  
Some girls drop straight to their knees as soon as the door shuts and Harry throws his head back, groaning at their eagerness, but he’s really waiting for when he can get them on the bed and sink his fingers between their folds. One girl draws her knees up under her, face down on the bed and pushing her hands behind her until Harry grabs them, one hand circling around both her wrists while his fingers pump in and out of her. Another is slow, all pent up tension as Harry tries to kiss her nerves away, repeatedly asking her if she’s okay, if this is okay. He curves a hand over her breast, still in her bra, barely out of her clothes, but she’s gasping into his touch, hands pulling at his shoulders for more. He licks along the shell of her ear, asks, “Wanna put my fingers in you, can I do that?” and she nods frantically so he shimmies down the bed. He blows hot over her clit until she’s whining, “please, please, you can-” and then she goes quiet except for big, heaving gulps of air, gasping when he’s got three fingers in her and he has to keep knocking her hands away. She comes, hard, back curving and panting, “Fuck, Jesus, how did you, I usually have to,” blushing, hair fanned out over the pillows, gorgeous.  
  
Some guys refuse to bottom, and Harry doesn’t mind, not really, he loves being fucked and he doesn’t care if he gets inside of them as long as his fingers do. He loves sucking them off, swirling his tongue around the head, taking them in deep, down until he can feel pubic hair before pulling off and spitting on his fingers, asking, “Can I?” and pushing one in when he gets a yes, just to give them a taste of what they’re missing. Other times, he gives extra attention to prep, sliding in slow and watching their reactions, twisting his fingers and kissing them while they moan and squirm.  
  
He likes how easy it is with Louis. Louis, who was so, so tentative when they started, quiet and unsure of himself in a way that Harry hated, exchanging messy hand jobs in tour bus bunks and quick blowjobs in hotel rooms when they’re too tired for anything else.  
  
It’s only when they get a real bit of time off and they go back to their flat that they go further, and Harry’s aching to have his fingers inside him. He spreads Louis out, kisses soothingly down his body and slicks his fingers up. Louis hisses and bites his lip at the pain, tensing up until Harry crawls back up to him, “Hey, hey, relax. Gonna be so good, Lou.”   
  
Louis nods jerkily, breathes out, and Harry goes back down and takes his cock into his mouth, sucks him straight down and adds a second finger. Louis keeps making pretty noises, comes like that and once more that night, until he’s spent, sweating and shaking on the bed. He flips Harry over and blows him, puts his hands in his hair and groans when Harry tugs at the strands.  
  
He learns to do it to Harry, nervously pushing his fingers inside, looking up for reassurance as Harry bucks and whines for more. Louis watches, fascinated, as Harry pulls on his cock, quick fingers tugging and twisting around the head until he comes, and then they learn that Louis has a thing for Harry’s fingers too. He likes to watch Harry jerk off, hold his hands down while he fucks Harry or watch him white knuckle the headboard, the sheets, Louis’ hips, and he sometimes sucks on them, humming smugly while he straddles Harry on the couch, making him come embarrassingly fast in his pants.  
  
“You should get yourself ready,” Louis whispers to him once, pressing him into the bed and he hands Harry the lube and helps him lay back and holds his legs, holds him open while Harry uncaps the tube. He’s near bent in half, knees coming up round his ears and he can only fuck in shallowly at this angle, reaching around one of his thighs awkwardly, but it’s so good, his fingers feel so good and it’s worth it for the way Louis’ eyes rake over him, kneeling above him, watching Harry’s fingers disappear inside himself.  
  
Harry loves it like that, when Louis will come up behind him and wind his arms around his waist, holding onto Harry’s hands, twisting and playing with his fingers and he murmurs low and dirty, “Wanna see you fuck yourself open, Haz, see you come on your own fingers. Wanna do that for me?” and Harry shuts his eyes, shivering, and nods.  
  
Sometimes he goes slow, keeps Harry stretched wide around his fingers, waiting while Louis watches him. Sometimes he pushes his own in alongside Harry’s, makes him come like that with five pushing at his prostate and doesn’t stop until Harry comes again.  
  
He pushes Harry down to his knees, thumbing his mouth open as he goes and pushes his cock in slowly. Harry slides down his shaft, wanting more, grabbing for Louis’ hands so he can fuck his mouth. He gets swatted away but then Louis grabs his hands, holds them with his own at the back of Harry’s head, fingers spanning wide along his skull while Louis shoves in all the way, hitting the back of Harry’s throat and holding there until Harry’s gagging. He fucks in again and again, holding onto Harry’s hands, and spit drips down Harry’s chin, eyes streaming when he looks up at Louis.  
  
“Fuck.” Louis pulls out and Harry groans, knows what’s coming. “Come on, get up.”  
  
He pushes the lube into Harry’s hands before he even hits the bed and Harry’s scrambling, hauling his legs up so he can get his fingers in.  
  
Louis grabs at his wrist and Harry keens. “Hey, slow down, I’ll get you there,” Louis says, biting at Harry’s jaw.  
  
He watches Harry, eyes half lidded and biting his lip as he preps himself. The flush along his neck and chest gets redder, his cock darkening where he’s stroking himself.  
  
“Good?” he asks, pushing his thumb in where Harry’s pumping three fingers inside, working the angle, whimpering at the slide of his fingers, and he nods at Louis, mouth slack.  
  
Louis tugs his hand out, kisses at his sticky fingers even as Harry scrunches his face up, laughing at him. He slicks his cock up and then Harry’s eyes are rolling back as he pushes in.  
  
Louis waits for his body to adjust, but not long, knows Harry doesn’t need it. He starts slow, teasing, long strokes that have Harry clawing at the bed and almost babbling, and then he starts fucking him in earnest.  
  
“Shit, Lou,  _LouLouLou_ ,” Harry begs, hand snaking down to touch his cock. Louis knocks it away, pausing his movements and Harry is about to just flip him over and ride him if he doesn’t get to come in the next few minutes.  
  
“You can take more,” Louis says, and it’s not a question. He grabs at one of Harry’s hands, bringing it down to where his cock’s going in and out of his body. Louis' eyes snap to Harry’s, questioning, and Harry groans.  
  
“Yes, yeah, yeah,” Harry pants out, desperate, “Come on, please.”  
  
The angle’s difficult, but it’s not much different than just doing it to himself. Harry’s fingers trail back behind his balls, feel where Louis’ cock is sliding, pumping in and out and he can just barely get his forefinger in up to the first knuckle, but it’s - it’s so fucking good, feeling where Louis is fucking him, finger pressing in alongside his cock.  
  
“Shit, shit, Harry,” Louis breathes out, awed, and plants his own hands on either side of Harry’s head, watching where their bodies meet.  
  
Harry tries to focus, moves his hand some more and manages a second finger, impossibly tight, and Louis groans, sweat dripping down his temples, “Yeah, Harry, fuck, you’re so full, aren’t you? So full on my cock and your fingers.”  
  
Harry cries out as Louis pulls out all the way, angling up and pushing in especially hard, shoving Harry’s hand further, and then Harry's clenching, squeezing around his own fingers as he keens, coming suddenly, back arching and gasping as his cock spurts over his chest.  
  
“Fucking hell,” Louis says, and pounds harder, moaning into Harry’s shoulder and riding out his own orgasm.  
  
Louis pulls out slowly, mindful of Harry’s hand. he uncurls his fingers, cramped and stiff from being in the same position for so long and he stretches them out, rubbing so the blood flow returns.  
  
Harry watches him with half lidded eyes, sleepy and sated, letting Louis move his pliant limbs easily. Louis cleans him up with some tissues and then throws the blankets over them, letting Harry snuggle into his chest and nuzzle at his neck.  
  
“Good?” Louis asks, kissing his hair.  
  
Harry nods, already dropping off as Louis grabs one of his hands and tangles their fingers together on his stomach.


End file.
